


I'm standing in the ashes of who I used to be

by Ineffablemurderhusbands



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Insecurity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:14:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23354509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ineffablemurderhusbands/pseuds/Ineffablemurderhusbands
Summary: Thranduil never lets you touch his face. One day you find out why.
Relationships: Thranduil/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 154





	I'm standing in the ashes of who I used to be

**Author's Note:**

> So, I was bored in the quarentine today and decided to have a look on my old archives to see if I could salvage anything and realized that I had written half of this and forgotten it existed so here it is. Hope you enjoy, leave kudos and comments if you do please, I am a starved author.

Thranduil never let you touch him. Not tenderly at least, or anywhere on his head. 

You were a mere and low servant you knew that all too well, but you’ve longed to touch him much before he took you as his concubine. You used to daydream while you were working about caressing his long and smooth hair and running your fingers through his tresses. You never managed to fulfill that dream. 

You couldn’t be more grateful when he took a liking to you and asked if you wanted to pleasure him in the bedchambers, assuring you that it was okay to say no and that you wouldn’t suffer any penalty for it. You believed him, of course. Your king wasn’t the type of person to force himself on anyone without consent, like the stories of other kings you’ve heard about in your youth. Your mother had warned you about those types of men, elf or dwarf and thankfully you’ve never encountered one in your years of servitude. 

Thranduil was different and you didn’t even hesitate as you said yes. 

You didn’t know what real pleasure was before he took you. Of course you touched yourself in the private sanctuary of your quarters, biting on your bottom lip trying to stifle your moans so the rest of the staff wouldn’t hear you. Usually to thoughts of him. 

The first time Thranduil touched you, it was like your whole skin was on fire. His hands knew exactly where to caress, where to squeeze, where to press to make you lose your mind. You lost yourself every night on his arms only to find yourself again in the morning light. 

But he never let you touch him. The first time you tried to run your hands through his hair, Thranduil gathered them in his and pressed your hands against the mattress. When you tried to hold his face as you were straddling him, the king took your hand and kissed it, placing it on his shoulder instead. 

So you never tried to touch him anymore. It was an unspoken rule between the two of you. You just kept your hands in the area below his neck, and even there it felt like he was indulging you instead of taking pleasure in it. 

You knew very well he didn’t love you. You knew your relationship with him was purely sexual. Thranduil never acknowledged you differently when you two had company and he never even looked at you lustfully or longingly like you thought someone in love might do. He was your king and you were aware the only thing he missed about you was your body. You knew it wasn’t supposed to hurt that much if you didn’t love him because you entered this arrangement knowing how it was supposed to go. But it hurt anyways and you were getting sick of feeling that way. 

You were touch starved and the only person who could cure your hunger was him. 

That night you discovered why Thranduil didn’t liked to be touched. 

It had started simple enough. Thranduil had called you up to his chambers as usual and you had come right away, feeling your heart pounding in your chest as it usually did when he requested your presence in his royal chambers. When you entered the room, Thranduil was sitting on his vanity and brushing his long and luscious hair. His crown was perched on the table and he hadn’t looked at you as you approached. You watched hungrily and quite enviously as Thranduil’s hands ran through his silver locks, imagining that was you doing it instead of him. You wanted to touch him so badly, you could feel your hands aching for the contact but you refrained from doing so by clasping your hands behind you so they wouldn’t touch what wasn’t yours. He wasn’t yours, you were a mere plaything for him. 

“Have you asked for me, sire?” You asked as he stopped brushing his hair and placed his brush next to his crown. Thranduil finally acknowledged your presence by turning to you. He was only wearing a golden embroidered robe and nothing else. You could see his naked and unblemished chest underneath the fine fabric and not for the first time you wondered how it felt to have such amazing skin. It was the curse of elves to have the most beautiful, soft and smooth skin possible and you envied them with your human skin that had your fair share of acne scars from your puberty years. “You have such beautiful skin…” You heard yourself muttering under your breath, gasping as you realized that you had said that out loud. Something went through Thranduil’s eyes but you couldn’t quite place what the feeling was because he was raising himself from his chair and closing the distance between your bodies. Thranduil was so tall that you had to lean your head back just so you could keep looking at his face. He closed the distance and kissed you passionately, causing you to lose yourself on the kiss like the in love fool you were. That was when you placed your hand in his face and deepened the kiss causing the king to gasp and break the kiss. 

You hadn’t realized your mistake until he grabbed your hand and pulled it away from his face, holding your wrist in his hand. It was the final drop. You couldn’t take it anymore. “Why don’t you let me touch you?” You asked frantically, forgetting that you were a mere serve and he was your king. 

“I let you touch me.” He answered firmly, leaving no room for argument. But nothing could stop you anymore. “Isn’t that what we’re doing right now?” 

“You don’t.” You said, also firmly. “I can touch your body, I can touch your cock, but you won’t let me touch your face or hair. Why is that, Thranduil?” You had never addressed him by his name like you were doing now, apart when you did it in the throes of passion, but never casually like you were doing now. Like you had the right to call him by his name. “I want to touch you. All of you. I want to run my hands through your hair as you eat me out. I want to hold your face in my hands as we kiss. I want to be able to feel the pulse in your neck under my fingertips as you cum. Please, let me touch you. I’m begging you.” 

You ended your ramble and you couldn’t recognize the look in his eyes. You had overstepped it and you knew it. “I’ll see myself out.” You whispered, feeling the tears pooling in your eyes as you started to pull apart from him but Thranduil kept a firm grip in your pulse, not letting you go away. The king sighed as he spoke.

“I don’t have a beautiful skin.” He said in a whisper. 

You frowned not understanding why he was telling you this since you could see how flawless his skin was. Thranduil wasn’t a modest man so his remark made no sense. The king lifted your hand that he was still holding and placed it on his face again, rubbing gently at the skin there. Soon you started to feel a little tingle in your fingertips and you started to feel something rougher under your skin. As Thranduil took his hand way from his face again, you gasped at what you saw. The magical glamour had rubbed off on your hand and now you were looking at a Thranduil with a half disfigured face. Half of his gorgeous face was burned beyond recognition and one of his eyes were as white as milk as he looked at you. “That’s why I don’t like to have my face touched. Who would want to touch such ugliness? I was kissed by the dragon fire and now the monster is me.” He deviated his gaze from you but you placed a hand on his face so he would look at you again. 

“You could never be ugly, Thranduil. You’re not a monster; you’re still the most beautiful elf I have ever placed my eyes on.” You caressed his burn scars softly, feeling two fat tears running from your eyes. “My want hasn’t changed. I still want to do all the things that I said I wanted to, if you’ll have me.” 

The glamour returned to his face gradually but you shook your head. “No, I want to do it with the real you, if you let me.” 

The glamour stopped and receded, leaving Thranduil’s burn scars for your eyes to see. “You’re beautiful.” You whispered before leaning forwards to kiss him again. That night you made love with Thranduil while looking into his eyes and caressing and kissing his face, holding his silver locks in your hands as you came shouting his name towards the stars. From that day on, Thranduil always let you caress his face, glamour on or off, for as long as you would have him. You would never let him go. He was yours and you were his after that.


End file.
